When Anne and Damien arrived, the front door was slightly ajar, and as they stepped inside, the tension in the air was thick. Emily was sitting on the couch, her face streaked with tears, her body trembling as Chris sat besides her, his arm around her in quiet comfort. Heather lay pale and fragile on the sofa, a blanket pulled up to her chin.
Emily's sobs broke through the silence. "She collapsed... out of nowhere."
As Anne moved closer to Heather, a strange scent hit her—something thick, pungent, and unnatural. Sickness. She wondered how none of them had noticed it before.
Anne's hands trembled as Emily passed her a folder of papers—medical reports, hospital scans, blood work. She read the words, and her heart lurched, each line sinking deeper into her gut like a heavy stone.
Cancer.
"W-what?" Anne's voice was barely a whisper as she looked up at Heather, the words catching in her throat. "How long...?"
